


Silk

by melodicDisarray (fabricatedMiracles)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Headcanons Everywhere, M/M, MSPARP Shenanigans, Pepsi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:18:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricatedMiracles/pseuds/melodicDisarray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Dave decide to get impulsive.</p>
<p>Basically, no plot; just a thing I wrote based of where I perceived a PARP log I had was going to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silk

**Author's Note:**

> A DaveJohn fan fiction brought to you by melodiousDisarray and Pepsi-Cola.
> 
> STOP.
> 
> HAMMERTIME.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this. Comments appreciated (requests/kinks always considered individually!); actual fricking to come in the next chapter, I guess.

It’s a miracle your DAD let you leave the house. It’s an even bigger miracle that he’s letting you sleep over at DAVE’S.

 

Bro will be there, of course, and you won’t be alone with Dave, but you know, and as does everyone else who’s going, that you will be sharing his bed with him because you are, of course, BEST BROS, and isn’t that what BEST BROS do?

 

If not, you have been terribly misled.

 

But nonetheless, as best bros, you share everything.

 

At thirteen: SBURB.

 

At fourteen: a few conversations, just as bros, about sex, among other things. You figured out a few kinks, a few feelings, and your hormones took a rocket up then.

 

At fifteen: a game of gay chicken; a porn tape or two as a joke… Maybe. You first vented your homosexual urges, by way of innuendo, and this was where your hand and your dick became really acquainted. _Dave, Dave, Dave._ The name would fall from your lips, to your chagrin, but it was never anyone else. Always Dave.

 

At sixteen: jerking off, on cam, just as a joke, for irony, for the heat of the moment. You swore you’d never tell Dave you were thinking of him when you licked your sticky seed off your fingers, and you know he knows you know that he asked you to do it not for irony, but because he wanted to see you do it. You’d both play it off as having said the first name on tongue, but he’d screamed yours and you’d wailed his. And you knew, you knew damn well that he was into you hardcore. He’d cut cam, but forgotten the mic, and you’d heard him moaning your name, over and over. You fell asleep to it, uncomfortably hard.

 

At seventeen: you’re going to share your bodies with each other now. There will be real heat, real pants, and moans, and spit, and cum, with you sliding home into him and his body giving you the warm, wet, _tight_ welcome you knew he’d been waiting over a year to give you.

 

Is it love? Just sex?

 

You pray for the former, but you’ll settle for the latter, for the moment.

 

His hair and his voice and his freckles and his hips will be yours, if only for a short while.

-

 

You end up slipping discreetly into Dave’s bedroom during the game, a thick lump in your throat and a hard bulge in your silk pajamas, and you shuck your jams quickly, leaving your silk boxers on. Pulling your phone out, you message Dave again.

 

_come upstairs._

_i’m going to make you scream._

When Dave arrives, he walks in to you on his bed, casually rubbing yourself through the silk of your boxers, the cool fabric moving along your skin as smoothly as water.

 

He shuts and locks the door, unzips his ironic footie pajamas, and climbs on the bed towards you.

 

Both of you are nervous, just first-timers, but there’s trust between you. You don’t need to speak, both of you knowing your own anxiety would make you say things that’ll kill the mood; you just go with the flow.

 

You’re in charge, in a pleasant but unexpected turn of events. The fact that you’re topping Dave is really quite hot, and so you play the game in your favor. You want to see him moaning, your cum splattered across his face as he’s pushing his shades, thick white trails sliding down his lenses, up into his hair.

 

You want to see his eyes widen as he arches into your body, shooting his seed onto both your abdomens.

 

You decide that this, this is really what you want, and you meet him halfway, your hands threading into his hair, and you pull his lips to yours.

 

A sweet apple taste lingers on Dave’s lips, and you two waste no time in making the fuck out, tongues sliding together, exploring each other’s mouths. Dave’s slipped off his underwear; you’re a bit surprised to find he’s a fan of boxer briefs. You would have made a comment as you broke the kiss, gasping for air, but when he sets his hand on your knees, just behind his toned ass, and ruts his hips against yours.

 

A strangled cry wrings itself from your lips and the thin silk that separates your erections suddenly feels like a mile and not a few millimeters. You haul your boxers down impulsively, your dick springing free, the tip wet with precum, and Dave, shades askew, grasped you both in his fist and jerked it up and down, your foreheads pressing together, as your gasps mingled.

 

You were rushing this, not thinking much, only pleasure, passion, and Dave existing in your world.

 

He slides back, sitting right on the bed and relinquishing his grip on your cock reluctantly, and you ask him without words if he’ll suck you off.


End file.
